


This pain does not fade

by AnyaDeannaWinchester



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Established Relationship, M/M, Men Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnyaDeannaWinchester/pseuds/AnyaDeannaWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title is inspired by Evanescence's song 'My Immortal'. Clint struggles to bear the 'loss' of Coulson. Set after the battle of New York. I'm bad at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This pain does not fade

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic. Please be kind. Also, English is not my first language, so all grammatical and spelling are my mistakes.
> 
> Please review.

SHIELD provided decent apartments to its agents. It’s one of those smallest luxuries the spies are allowed to have. For Clint, however, it’s not a luxury anymore. It’s a constant reminder of what he had and what he has lost.  
The last mission was exhausting. The new handler was a complete ass and didn’t want any input from Clint. It reminded him all the more about Phil. Phil would never disregard his opinion on field without any justified cause.  
Phil.

_Dead._

_Not coming back._

Clint slid down the door as soon as he entered the room. Phil was everywhere. Bedroom, living room, study, kitchen.  
Phil laughing in the study about a rooky agent’s mistake. Phil dancing with him in the living room with the Jazz Music he loved so much on the loop. Phil cooking French toast. Phil sleeping on their bed, the gentle sunlight giving his skin a golden glow.  
The most torturous material for Clint is their picture on the mantelpiece. Taken on their wedding day, it reflected their happiness on their faces.

_Flashback:_

Phil looked like an angel on their wedding day. Ditching his regular suit, he had opted for a snow white suit, while Clint got a light blue suit.  
As soon as the ceremony, Clint had whispered in his ear seductively, “Take me to bed, you stud or lose me forever.”  
Phil had whispered back, “Whatever happens, I’m not gonna lose you.”  
Both had giggled like schoolgirls.  
Natasha had brandished a camera from somewhere and teased both of them.  
“All right lovebirds, you can continue your ….'talk'…at home. Time for your marriage photo!” and had clicked the picture that sat on the mantelpiece.

_End flashback._

Giving out a loud sob, Clint burst into tears and screamed “Phil! Come back, please! Phil!”

_27,000 feet above in the sky, inside the office of a mobile command-_

Sitting in front of his computer screen where a live feed from a surveillance camera from what used to be his and Clint’s home played, tears roll down Agent Phil Coulson’s face.  
Though the surveillance camera was Clint’s idea, it was he who put it there, just to satisfy Clint’s hyper vigilance.  
Now it was serving as its torture, as he saw his husband break down every single evening after his ‘death’.  
“I’m alive, babe” whispered Coulson “I’ll get back to you. Hold on, hang tight and don’t give up.”  
As if they heard each other, the spy and the handler said in unison.

_“I love you”._


End file.
